Ricochet, Now Take Your Aim
by SantittanyForever
Summary: When Beca adjusts the Bella's set during their performance at the semi-finals, they find themselves in last place. And when she blames herself for their loss, it's not Jesse who's there to comfort her. It's Chloe. Rated M for one use of mature language.


**_-Chloe-_**

"Beca! Beca, wait!" You call desperately, chasing after the small brunette girl as she races out of the auditorium.

But Beca is already far ahead of you, and when you eventually come to a halt in the foyer, she is nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it."

"CHLOE!"

You roll your eyes as Aubrey's piercing shriek floats through the air, growing closer until the agitated blonde rounds the corner, eyes blazing as she strides towards you.

"Why did you run after her after she just ruined our set? Because of her, we aren't going to the finals this year! She's ruined everything; she's such a selfish little bitch–"

"AUBREY! Would you please, for one second, just shut the fuck up?!"

You take a deep breath, trying to quell the bubbling anger that is flaring up inside of you. But it's too late.

"All you ever do is find the flaws in people, but you never seem to appreciate what's _good_ about them! Sure, Beca was a bit ambitious. But she was also brave, fearless, and creative. All she wanted to do was help us win, but you couldn't let go for just one second, could you?"

Aubrey, speechless, simply stares at you blankly, flabbergasted by your unexpected outburst.

"Well– I, uh– I'm sorry, I mean–"

"Save your apologies for someone who cares." You mutter, before striding over to the exit, leaving Aubrey standing alone, the dull roar of applause seeping through the doors behind her.

* * *

**_-Beca-_**

You storm into your room, shaking with a mixture of rage and angst. You are furious at Aubrey for reacting like that when all you were doing was trying to help the Bellas win, yet at the same time you feel a strange ache in your heart at the thought of not being part of the Bellas any more. As much as you hate to admit it, you really like hanging out with the girls. And, the more you think about it, you seem to like one girl in particular...

However, your train of thought is suddenly interrupted by a timid knocking on the door. You rise from your position on the bed and approach the door cautiously, wondering if it's Jesse with more of his stupid movies and picnic baskets. You open the door a little, and are surprised to see crystal-blue eyes peeking at you shyly from underneath a curtain of ginger.

"Chloe?"

Your heart flutters a little as the girl's name ghosts across your lips.

"Hey Beca."

A smile.

Another flutter.

"What are you– Uh, you wanna come in?" You stammer, cursing yourself for being such a dork.

"Sure."

She walks around you, taking a seat precariously on the edge of your bed. You shuffle over and perch next to her, clearing your throat nervously.

"So–"

"I was–"

"You first." You gesture with a coy smile.

"Well, uh, I just came to see if you were okay."

You think your heart actually stops for a second.

"Y– you did?"

"Uh-huh." She nods.

She then gazes at you, seeming slightly perturbed, and you realise that you've been staring at her for the past few seconds and you haven't said a word.

"Oh, um, thanks, I guess."

You smile awkwardly, as she appraises you, her ocean-blue orbs travelling down from your face to your chest, where they linger for a heartbeat before her eyes are locked with yours once more.

"So, um, did Aubrey give you a hard time after I left?"

You speak softly, standing up to meander over to your desk, fiddling with the assorted trinkets you have lying around.

"A little. But I set her straight. No pun intended."

She giggles, and you turn to see her watching you, her eyes bright with amusement. You cough again; slightly unsettled by the direction your conversation seems to be going in.

"Sorry." She immediately says, seeing your face turn a shade paler at her comment.

"No, it's, uh, it's okay." You mumble, turning to face your desk once again.

You hear the bed creak slightly as she stands up, and you assume she's going to leave, like most people do after talking to you for longer than ten minutes.

But your breath catches in your throat when you feel a dainty hand wrap around your wrist, her presence right behind you.

You turn a little, not enough to meet her gaze but enough so you can see her in the corner of your vision.

"Beca–"

You stand motionless, eyes glued to the floor. The only thing you can focus on is the feeling of her hand clasping your wrist, and it feels amazing. Electric even.

"Beca, look at me."

You turn fully this time, watching as her thumb begins to draw soft circles on the inside of your wrist.

"Hey." She whispers.

You lift your head, finding yourself entirely captivated by her eyes. You feel like you could drown in those breathtaking pools of blue, but that's a death you'd gladly accept.

Then you realise how weird that sounds and you avert your gaze, staring up at the ceiling while trying to remember how to breathe.

"Um, Chloe–"

You try to formulate a coherent sentence, but your words are soon cut off when the redhead steps closer, until your bodies are almost touching. Almost, but not quite. Half of you is highly aware of how uncomfortably intimate this and is telling you to move away; but the other half of you is wondering what would happen if you took that one tiny step forward and pressed your lips against hers.

"Chloe, we don't even know what– I mean, I've never–"

You suddenly feel tears welling in your eyes, and you quickly pull your wrist from her grasp and turn away, embarrassed that you're crying and you're not even sure why.

"Beca? What's wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you!"

You can hear the worry, the distress in her voice, and your heart immediately swells with guilt. You spin around slowly, sniffing doggedly before offering her a weak smile.

"Sorry. I don't usually cry, like, ever. It's just, with losing tonight, and Aubrey, and all _this_, I'm just a bit, y'know."

"Yeah, I know." She smiles at you, that comforting smile that she seems to reserve only for you.

Your heart is no longer fluttering delicately like a butterfly by this point; it's pounding, like the thundering hooves of a thousand mighty wildebeest during a stampede through the savannah.

"But, uh, what did you mean by, all _this_?" she questions, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.

You freeze, feeling like a kid who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Uh..."

She tilts her head to the side, and you inhale sharply as she steps forward, finally closing the gap between your bodies and pressing herself against you gently.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." She whispers against your ear, before planting a light kiss on your temple.

Any protests you have seep out of your brain the moment her lips touch your skin. She kisses you on your cheek, before moving down and pressing her lips ever-so-gently against the corner of your mouth. She then moves down to your jaw line, nibbling a little.

Her lips leave a blazing trail of heat along your skin, scorching yet utterly addictive. You crave more.

You bring your hands up, cupping her cheeks, albeit slightly hesitantly.

She smiles at you reassuringly, and all of your worries seem to melt away with her smile.

You lean forward slightly, until your noses are touching. Eyes shut tight, you block out any outside noise, revelling simply in the sound of her breathing, feeling her warm breath tantalisingly slide across your lips.

Your hands travel down a little to wrap around her neck.

Her hands grasp your waist, cementing your bodies together.

Then, your lips touch.

Fireworks.

That's what you see when you kiss her. When you feel her lean into you, your lips moulding to hers, as if they were made for each other.

You pull back seconds later, breathless, your head swimming. You gaze at Chloe, and she gazes back at you with the warmest smile lighting up her face.

And in that moment, you feel like nothing can hurt you. No one can bring you down, or take away your happiness that you feel in this moment with her.

To put it simply; you feel bulletproof.


End file.
